By The Light Of The Silvery Moon

I could have used Lord Baltimore in the deer woods with me the other evening. For those of you who aren't familiar with the reference, Lord Baltimore was the legendary, half-Indian tracker, hired by E.H. Harriman to track down Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. In the movie, Lord Balitmore could track anything over any kind of terrain.

I was in need of a good tracker last night, since I am apparently lacking in that department. Yesterday, just about dark, Mr. 8 Pointer and a buddy of his, finally paid a second visit to my bait pile and I made what I thought was a perfect shot on him. But at the end of the evening, I was in my truck heading to Atlanta without any fresh venison in the back.

It was Wednesday evening, and I had managed to slip out of work a tad early. I was in my stand by 4PM. Sometime around 5:30, Mr. 8 Pointer and another small buck wandered into my corn pile. Both were eating casually, and I stood and drew back on Mr. 8. He was standing next to an old stump that I had previously measured with my range finder at 20 yards. He was positioned perfectly parallel to me, completely broadside. I took careful aim just behind his shoulder and let my arrow fly. I heard a loud SNAP! and the buck whirled in mid-air and sprinted back into the woods from which he came. I just KNEW I had made a clean shot.

After several minutes, I climbed down and walked over to the spot I shot the deer and began tracking him back into the swamp. About twenty feet from where he was standing I found my arrow, broken off at the shaft about three inches below the broad head.

AWESOME! The arrow had passed through the deer and it woud be just a matter of time before I found Mr. 8 Pointer's lifeless body. But upon further inspection, I noticed the broad head had very little blood on it-just a little hair and a fatty-type substance.

I had at least a good twenty minutes of light left so I started making circles from the spot I last saw the retreating deer. But as the light faded into night, I still hadn't located my buck. I flipped on my Mini Mag Light and called Danielle on my cell to inform her that it may be a long night in the deer woods.

For the next hour and a half I searched the surrounding area with no luck. I couldn't find so much as a drop of blood. Eventually my Mini-Mag's battery's began to dwindle and I was forced to go back to the truck and fetch my giant spotlight. For the next two and a half hours I searched a radius of over a mile, still nothing. Through creek beds, swamps, briar thickets, and cow pastures I looked for that stupid deer. Even when my spotlight faded, I searched by the light of the full moon. But I still came up empty handed.

Sometime around 11PM, I gave up the hunt. There was nothing more I could do. As I headed back to the truck and across the cow pasture which was now bathed in a silvery, lunar glow, I heard the distant howl of a pack of coyotes. They were carrying on like crazy about a mile from my location in the precise direction of my wounded buck. I felt certain they had found my deer and were enjoying a free meal thanks to Yours Truly.

"You're welcome, you filthy animals." I thought. Oh well, at least somebody gets to eat some fresh venison tonight. Bon Apetit!